


Save Me

by maypoison



Series: Supernatural One Shots [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, F/M, Hunters & Hunting, Protective Sam Winchester, Reader-Insert, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:35:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maypoison/pseuds/maypoison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A requested One Shot from Tumblr user 'komekoro'. After being kidnapped and tortured by demons, you are saved by Sam and Dean, but the scars left from your captors aren't just skin deep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save Me

You had lost count of the days.

You knew that it must have been over a week since you had been taken, considering how much weight you had lost, how many times you had seen the guards leave and arrive again, and disgustingly, how bad you smelt.

The demons never asked you questions. They weren’t looking for any information, you realised that pretty quickly. But they still stabbed you, hit you, cut you… tortured you.

You wondered why they didn’t just kill you. It would have been merciful compared to what you had been enduring, and much quicker. Then, you answer your own question when you realise, that was the point. They wanted you to suffer; to play with you like you were their own personal voodoo doll.

You knew being best friends with Sam and Dean Winchester would end badly.

You are so numb, so exhausted, just so … gone, that you don’t even move when you hear gunshots in the distance.

You don’t look up when you hear someone calling your name.

You don’t even turn your head when you realise someone had just entered the room, and killed your demon guard.

“Hey, can you hear me … I’ve got you … you’re ok … we’re going to get you out of here …”

A large hand carefully holds yours, whilst you feel the cold touch of a knife at your wrists, rapidly moving back and forth.

You scream.

You knew what that touch meant, and you struggle widely, trying to move away from the knife, and large figure stood over you at the side of the cold metal table.

Sam looks down at you with a look you can only describe as heartbroken, and immediately stops cutting the thick ropes that held your hands together above your head.

“Sam, c’mon.” Dean hisses, and you hear his heavy footsteps as he approaches.

Still, you struggle, and try to move away.

The rational part of your brain recognises Sam and Dean, but the other part, the part that had been starved, tortured and abused, just wants to get away.

Dean shoves his gun into Sam’s hands, and moves to take the knife from his brother. He cuts the ropes, and bends to pick you up.

“No, let me …” Sam says, already moving to gently hold you around the shoulders, and under your thin and scarred legs.

Sam doesn’t grunt, or even make a sound as he picks you up. Through your tears, you see Sam and Dean share a look, and you know instantly what they are thinking.

Sam never used to be able to pick you up. Not easily at least …

“Get her to the car. I’ll cover you …”

And so, you lie loosely in Sam’s arms, ignoring the sound of conflict around you, but, you can’t help but wince when you recognise voices. The very same voices that had spoken to you whilst they had sliced open your arms and legs …

Sam doesn’t let go of you once he gets to the Impala. Instead, the man clambers into the back seat, pulling you onto his lap, and cradling you like a small child.

Dean climbs in the front seat soon after, panting with exhaustion as he turns on the car, and pulls out onto the open road.

“Has she said anything yet?” Dean asks quietly, looking in the rear view mirror to see your pale and tear stained face.

Sam shakes his head, and holds you just a bit tighter. “No.”

“Maybe we should call Cas …”

“I don’t think there’s anything Cas can do to help her Dean.”

Dean, out of frustration or annoyance, you can’t be sure, bangs the steering wheel with his large hand, and grits his teeth. You jump at the sound, and bury your head into Sam’s warm body. The man notices your reaction, and looks down at you with a small frown.

“Then, what …”

“Sam?” You rasp, interrupting Dean.

Sam shifts in the seat, and carefully moves a hand to stroke soothingly up and down your arm. You hadn’t even realised you were shaking. You weren’t cold …

“Yeah, I’m here. You’re ok.”

The ride back to the Bunker takes hours, but you don’t sleep, and barely move. Dean doesn’t stop the car for a food or restroom break, and you idly wonder why whilst your head was buried into Sam’s chest. Dean wasn’t the kind of person to drive for hours without stopping, so, what was so important that they didn’t stop.

Dean pulls up to the side of the Bunker, and instantly climbs out and heads to the back of the car.

“C’mon …” Sam shifts, but you don’t move. “Can you walk?”

“I don’t know.” You rasp, speaking honestly. You hadn’t walked since you had been taken, and been tied down to that table. 

Sam doesn’t ask you again, and just moves out of the Impala, before moving back around to collect you from the other side of the car. Once in his arms, you relax, and allow him to carry him to your room. It hadn’t changed at all.

“Get some sleep.” Sam says quietly as he places you down on your bed. “There’s water, and some food here …” You don’t turn your head, but assume that your friend was talking about the nightstand. “Me and Dean will be right outside. Call if you need anything.”

You close your eyes, and will yourself to sleep. Just as you begin to drift, you feel the gentle touch of lips on your forehead, and you don’t even wince.

You sleep for hours, and when you look at the clock in your room, you notice that it is the 23rd. 23 days. That’s how long you had been gone …

Dean is in the kitchen when you enter, and he smiles up at you.

“Morning.”

“Moring De-“

You break off suddenly, hearing footsteps approach from behind you. You move quickly, standing behind Dean, and as you reach forward to grab a knife, Dean gently places his hand over your wrist.

“Hey, it’s good kiddo. It’s just Cas.”

“Cas?” You question, your heart beating loudly against your ribs.

Castiel enters the room slowly, and looks over to you warily, as if he did expect you to attack him. “Hello.”

“What are you doing here?” You question, as Dean lets go of your arm, and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder instead.

“Me and Cas are heading out. There’s a hunt a few hours West.”

“Just you two? What about Sam?”

Dean sighs, and you think that your friend looks annoyed, or maybe upset … “Sammy’s staying.”

You nod in understanding, and Dean asks you if you want breakfast. Sam comes down to find you sat next to his brother at the kitchen table, eating your third omelette.

Dean and Castiel leave after that, promising to call, and be back as soon as they can.

You knew that the life of a hunter never stopped, and they did have to go, but you didn’t want them to. After all, you’d been on a routine hunt when you had been … taken.

“You ok?” Sam asks kindly, sitting down next to you in the seat his brother had just vacated.

“I don’t need a babysitter Sam.” You reply quietly.

Before Sam can reply, you stand from your seat, and head into the main room of the Bunker. You had always liked it there.

“No one said you did.” Sam says, as he approaches the table you had sat at.

You don’t know what to say, so just nod, and try to blink away the tears that were swarming your vision. You felt, broken.

“I want to stay.” Sam continues, sounding confident and sure as he sits opposite you.

“Fine.” You concede, and Sam smiles widely.

“Well, what do you want to do?”

You smile slightly at that, before nodding your head over towards one of the large bookshelves. “Read.”

“Well that, that I can do.”

You are woken that afternoon by the sound of gunshots, and can’t help the scream that falls from your mouth. The sound stops suddenly, and you hear rapid footsteps approach your room.

“Hey, hey … it’s ok. It’s alright …” Sam soothes, coming to sit on the edge of your bed, and holding up his hands in surrender.

“What? Wha …” You stammer, trying to calm down your pounding heart.

“It’s alright, it’s just Dean. He’s downstairs.”

You sigh, and run your shaking hands through your hair. “At least tell me he’s not shooting in the kitchen …”

Sam smiles, but shakes his head. “No, he’s in the armoury.” He moves closer towards you, and his expression softens. “You ok?”

You scoff, and lie back down on your bed. “Not really.”

“You never talk about it. About what happened there.”

A shaky breath comes when you try to reply, and you shut your eyes tightly, and shake your head. “I don’t want to. Please don’t …”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Sam soothes, moving to put a hand on your shoulder, and rubbing it soothingly. “I’m not going to ask you to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You smile up at your friend. “Thank you.”

Sam looks down at you, and before he can question, you grab has hand, and pull him forward, giving him to choice but to lie down next to you.

You fall asleep with his arms cradling your body, felling safer than you ever had before.

 


End file.
